Amnesia
by eilea16644661
Summary: A new Slytherin has arrived, proving just as much or more of a threat to Harry Potter as is Draco Malfoy - if she can remember who she really is...
1. A New Arrival

~Disclaimer: as much as I would like, I do not own any of these characters (aside from my beloved Eilea) and the rights are all J.K.Rowling's. Please  
don't sue. ... ... I'm poor . . . ~  
  
"Eilea," Professor McGonnagal called. Eilea was the last to be sorted, because she was a newly arrived fifth-year. She had pale, frosty skin, only to barely be matched by one other in the castle: Draco Malfoy. Just at the sight of this, everybody could tell she would be sorted into the Slytherin house. Sure enough, the sorting hat hadn't even needed to touch her head before it called out, "SLYTHERIN!"  
Eilea made her way to the Slytherin table, her long, straight black hair never parting from her long, flowing black robes, and Malfoy shoved Crabbe aside and beckoned her to sit next to him. She took the seat and didn't say a word until after the food appeared and Malfoy started the conversation. "So.no last name?" he asked awkwardly.  
The piercing look from her deep black eyes was enough to make even Malfoy stop and stare, his mouth agape, the expression on his face possibly even reading a vague, "I'm sorry if I offended you." For about a minute, all signs of life were gone from Draco Malfoy. Something about her was enough to somehow overpower even a Malfoy. "I hate my family," was her only response, and she immediately went back to eating.  
After the fist course of the dinner was over, Malfoy decided to try his luck again. "So . . . " At this, Eilea rolled her eyes. "You're from . . . Durmstrang? . . . or no, wait, was that . . . Beauxbatons? . . . or, no, wait, I know your name . . . Eilea . . . Eilea . . . Eilea . . . where are you from?"  
"Hogwarts, actually." The heir of Malfoy could actually detect a hint of emotion in her voice, although he couldn't identify what it was.  
"Care to elaborate?" he said sarcastically, but one more look into those eyes made him mumble under his breath, "oh, fuck."  
"I just never bothered coming," she answered, as a smirk found it's way to her face.  
"Why wouldn't you? So many people to torment," he said, nodding towards the Gryffindor table.  
As if to answer the pale boy's question, she focused on the spot in the enchanted ceiling directly above Harry Potter, where a thundercloud ~coincidentally?~ happened to be forming. From this cloud, crackles of electricity started to emerge, and a few people, Headmaster Dumbledore among them, turned their attention to that spot. As soon as Dumbledore had looked there, Draco Malfoy barely noticed Eilea blink, but he was full and clear the small bolt of lightning that struck the floor behind Harry's chair. The Slytherins all laughed uproariously at the confusion that followed at the other three tables, and at Dumbledore, Ron, and Hermione trying to get a shaken Harry to the hospital wing.  
Draco, astonished, slowly turned back to Eilea. "Did you just-?" he asked in awe, and at this she nodded. "How." his voice trailed off as he followed Eilea's line of sight to the scorched floor, which was apparently repairing itself, but only Draco and Eilea knew what was really happening. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~  
In the Slytherin common room, late at night after everybody but them had gone to sleep, Eilea and Draco were too restless to settle down into their beds and were in search of something to do.  
"You've heard my name around your household, I gather? I've always know who you are, Draco Malfoy." Eilea spoke with her usual clarity and precision, in a voice that demanded an answer. Something about the way she said his name made Draco's heart leap to his throat.  
"I must have at some point . . . who are you?" he mustered up the strength to ask the strange girl in front of him. He believed, no, he hoped, that they might have even been related, until he remembered her say, "I hate my family."  
"Voldemort fears me," she said, and she placed in Draco's mind an image of a dead Voldemort.  
"Wha-" he started to say, and at the thought of the image his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He blinked furiously and rubbed his eyes in attempt to get rid of it, but it did no good seeing as the image was inside his head.  
"I'll stop your suffering now, if you wish, pathetic follower of Voldemort."  
"Please," Draco gasped.  
"It's great to hear a Malfoy beg," Eilea chuckled, before restoring Draco to his previous mindset. "So tell me, what do you know about me," Eilea stated rather than ask.  
"I.I don't know much.I know the name." Draco found himself gasping for breath as he tried to remember, and had to look away from her eyes.  
"Aw, scared, little baby Draco?" Eilea's voice didn't even change to a mocking tone, which somehow made it worse.  
"Shut . . . up . . . I . . . am . . . NOT . . . scared?" he said between breaths, the last word turning into a whimper as he looked back at Eilea's eyes. They were different now - it was as if he could see through them, and on the other side, there was fire. Draco could see the sparks from the fire crackling and would have sworn that he had even heard it. "A Malfoy is never scared," he whispered, more to himself than Eilea, as she moved closer to him. She touched his chin and tilted his head up, forcing him to look into her eyes, and he let out another whimper as she began to let out her story to him.  
"I don't remember much," she said, "but I remember reading. A lot. And hating it. I remember scavenging for spellbooks and throwing countless ones aside when they got too easy." In her eyes now, Draco could see the image of Eilea as a little girl, perhaps no more than five years old, exploding a spellbook with her wand.  
"I remember coming face-to-face with Voldemort," she continued, "when I was perhaps no more than seven." Now she showed an image of the giant that he had looked like to her. "I can remember us both trying to cast the death curse - Avada Kedavra, was it?" Draco winced at the sound of these words and the image of a blinding array of colors of light in her eyes. "Yes, well, I don't much need that anymore. Somehow, this I don't remember," and at her saying that the fire in her eyes died and her eyes returned to their normal black, but filled with pain, suffering, misery, and just plain confusion, "I was somehow fused with my wand," she explained.  
She slowly pulled her hand away from under Draco's chin and looked at him with an expression of pleading and sorrow that he could not take his eyes away from. He couldn't understand why, but for once in his life, he cared about someone other than himself. He brought her close and wrapped his arms around her as she buried her head in his shoulder. "It'll be okay," he whispered repeatedly as he stroked her hair.  
"If only I could remember," she began to sob. 


	2. The Dream

~Disclaimer: as much as I would like, I do not own any of the characters in this story {aside from my beloved Eilea} and the rights are all J.K. Rowling's. . . please don't sue . . . I'm poor . . .~  
  
Harry woke two see two blurry figures which he immediately identified as Ron and Hermione. Hermione passed Harry his glasses, and made sure to tell him, "I repaired them for you." Ron rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at this in a way that only Ron could do making Harry find it hard to stop bursting out into laughter. "What? What's so funny?" Hermione asked, and the two boys really did burst out laughing.  
"Anyway, Harry," Ron began to say, but he was unable to stifle his laughter.  
"Okay, Ron, now you're overdoing it," Harry said weakly from his hospital bed, and Ron silenced himself at once.  
"We have to find out who did this to you," Hermione practically whined.  
"She-" Harry began, but he was cut off by Ron.  
"Damn first years!" he yelled. "And those awful Slytherins! I'll betcha anything it was a Slytherin first year that did this to him - why else would it happen now?" Ron was practically screaming no, enjoying his moment of triumph, and Hermione slapped a hand over his mouch so Madam Pomfrey wouldn't wonder what in the devil was going on.  
"You're forgetting . . . her . . ." Harry said, weaker than before.  
"Who, Harry?" Ron asked, not noticing Hermione trying to get a word in edgewise.  
"Her . . ." Harry said, looking straight at Hermione, and for a moment Ron believed that Harry was accusing Hermione.  
"No . . ." Ron gasped, looking back and forth between Harry and Hermione.  
"No!" Hermione spoke fiercely to Ron and then murmured, "Eilea."  
Even just barely hearing that name was enough to send chills down Harry's spine. "Could you please not . . .I know me saying the name Voldemort," here Ron and Hermione had their chance to shiver at hearing that name, "wouldn't fare any better with the two of you as saying her name does with me."  
"We're sorry, Harry," Hermione and Ron said together.  
"It's okay," Harry started to say, but never got to because he was interrupted by a shooting pain in his scar. No, not just his scar; the pain this time seemed to fill his entire head, his entire body, his entire being. He cringed as Ron and Hermione bent over him in the hospital bed and an image of Eilea came into his mind. In it, here eyes were and odd orange color, and apparently glowing - they were on fire! Harry could hear her say, "Voldemort fears me," and then the image changed to her and Draco in an embrace, Draco whispering something to her. Then all Harry could see was black. ~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_- ~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~-_-~ "'Fear of the name only increases fear of the thing itself,'" Harry now saw (and heard) Dumbledore saying. "Repeat after me: Eilea." Harry opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. "That's okay, Harry, happens to the best of us. Try again."  
This time, Harry spoke, but it was not what either he or Dumbledore wanted to hear. He heard himself hissing, speaking the in Parsletongue which was only supposed to come naturally to Slytherins. He listened to what he was saying, and it was somewhere along the lines of, "I hate you! I hate you all! I will be victorious over all of you and one day rise to power in the name of Salazar-"  
"SLYTHERIN!" shouted the Sorting Hat from atop Harry's head, and there was a sound of applause from their corner.  
Harry walked over to the Slytherin table, and heard, "We could do great things together, Harry Potter." His eyes rested upon an outstretched hand and followed the arm, up to the face.  
"Malfoy-" he said hoarsely.  
"Draco Malfoy, the one and only. The pleasure's all yours." Harry took Draco's hand in his own shaking one and saw that the Malfoy's eyes were on fire. "We can do lots of thingsssss . . ." Malfoy had suddenly become a snake in harry's hand - the Basilisk, which had now grown to it's full size and was facing Harry in a black abyss. 


	3. Insomnia

~Disclaimer: As much as I would like, I do not own any of these characters (aside from my beloved Eilea) and the rights are all J. K. Rowling's. . . please don't sue . . . I'm poor . . .~ Author's Note: This chapter is from Eilea's Point of View. I thin I might switch PoVs a lot . . . it makes things soooo much more interesting . . . Sorry if this turns out to be a bit clichéd! - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
I think I may have actually found a reason to stay at Hogwarts. Something about him just makes me want to wipe that smirk off his face for good, and yet every second I go without seeing his face seems an eternity. My heart aches to hold him once more, to be in his arms as I was that night, when everything seemed to be right. Despite my tears, despite my memories and lack thereof, despite anything, at that moment, everything was perfect.  
Every day that goes by, I seem to both love him and hate him more than I ever though possible. I don't understand my feelings for him, nor am I entirely sure I want to. All I know is this: in him I have finally found a friend. At least a friend, and possibly more. I want it to be more.  
He's coming now. . . I have to stop thinking like this or I'm liable to get myself in trouble and tell him everything.  
"Hi," he says, rather coldly, as he enters the common room. All I can do to cover up my newfound feelings for him is to give him the same icy glare I have for the past week or so. . . oh, shit, I must have overdone it. "You okay?" he asks, "You kinda look a little paler than usual. If that's possible," he adds with his oh-so-adorable smirk.  
Looking into his beautiful eyes, I can feel warmth flowing into my cheeks. "Now. . ." he starts to say, tilting his head in confusion, and I can see his face turn the color of the blood that is coursing through it. Slowly, he brings his head back. "Ei. . . Eilea?" he stammers.  
"Just . . . leave me be," I say as I turn my back to him and, somehow miraculously resisting the urge to turn around and kiss him and do God-only- knows whatever else to the poor boy, I make my way up to the girl's dormitory.  
I make my way to my bed and lie there, restless, unable to fall into the safe haven that is sleep. I see maybe here or four other girls stir in their beds, perhaps even wake up and then fall back asleep, all of them oblivious to my pain and suffering, my heartache, all of them oblivious to me. I toss and turn, and I can taste something . . salty? I run my hand down the side of my cheek and feel wet pouring from my eyes - I was crying! Unable to believe this, I bury my face in my pillow, but that just made things worse, reminding me of the softness of his robes when he held me and of where I was not: with him.  
I lay there for what seems forever until I manage the strength to get up, and my pillow has been soaked through with my tears - I didn't even know a human could produce that much . . .  
Driven by my restless, aching heart ("I didn't even know you had one," I could perfectly envision him saying), I walk silently down to the common room. I consider walking up to the boy's dormitory when I see a pair of feet coming down the stairs, making no sound. Anybody else would have given themselves away by now, but not him. I turn around and am about to run to the girl's dormitory when a hand grabs my shoulder. His hand. I tense up as he turns around and looks into my eyes. I give in and realize what I've been trying to comprehend: he understands me. It seems such a foreign concept to me. Nonetheless, it is possible. Somehow, it is.  
And then I do it. 


	4. The Long Awaited

~Disclaimer: As much as I would like, I do not own any of these characters (aside from my beloved Eilea) and the rights are all J. K. Rowling's. . . please don't sue . . . I'm poor . . .~  
  
A/N: OK, I figure you'd've guessed this by now, but this is Draco's PoV . . . same scene, by the way. I just though that I needed to get in Draco's ideas on everything. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  
I can't focus on anything I'm supposed to be studying. All I can think of now is her. Her face, that beautiful black hair and beautiful, strange, impossible eyes. There's really no way I can describe her or what I feel for her. All I know is I've never felt this way before, although it doesn't seem to be a negative feeling that I'm harboring. It's just so foreign to actually . . . well . . care. The only people that have occupied my thoughts this much before are those which have issued me death threats, and even then there would be something I could do to take my mind off them. Nothing seems to work, and all I can do is to just keep repeating her name over and over again to myself as her picture stays in my mind. And all I know is that I don't even mind , but there seems to be an emptiness about me. Her. I want, no, I need, to be with her.  
Without even thinking about it, I gather up my books and everything and head off to the Slytherin tower. I briefly glance at my watch, and the late time brings me back to reality. 'Where was I going?' I silently ask myself, realizing, in horror, that I have forgotten the Slytherin password. Then it dawns on me, along with the reality of the fact that she will be there. I try to straighten myself up and regain my composure and I enter in and give her one of my nicer greetings. It must not have come out right, because all she does is stare. "You okay?" I ask her. Something's not right. "You look a little paler than usual. . . if that's possible," I can't help but add, accompanied by a smirk.  
Suddenly her face begins to change. This isn't something magical she is trying to tell me, as she has once with her eyes. No, this, as a matter of fact, she seemed she was trying to hide. She looks down at the floor, letting her black hair fill in the space over her cheeks, but I can see the beginnings of a blush. I saw pools of red quickly spread out from the centers of her cheeks - she has just only managed to to cover her face before it envelops both of her cheeks completely.  
Confused as to why her cheeks have stolen the fire from her eyes, I tilt my head slightly, looking, I think, puzzled. Suddenly, I am filled with the thought of a great possibility - maybe I know why she blushes. Maybe I am why she blushes.  
At the thought of this, I can feel my own cheeks begin to flush. "Now. . ." I begin to say, but stop, unsure about what to say to follow. "Ei . . . Eilea?" I managed to get out.  
"Just. . . leave me be," she says awkwardly. I consider following her, but decide against it. Instead, I head up to my own bed. My heart ("I didn't even know you had one," I could perfectly envision her saying), seemed to split in two. It doesn't take much longer, only what seems like a millennium or two, before I make my way back down to the common room. And there she is, but she has turned to leave, probably upon noticing me. I, still standing on the last stair extending from the boy's dormitory, grab her shoulder gently and pull her backwards, positioning her to face me. The first thing I notice is something glistening on her cheeks - she has been crying. I look her in the eye, finally unafraid, and for some time, there is a deep understanding and connection between us. When I feel the muscles in her arm relax, I let her go.  
And then she makes her move. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - A/N: Sorry the last two chapters were so short, and cliffhangers, but I need to know who's PoV to do the next chapter from, and should I continue with the different PoVs or is it getting too repetitive? Well, please review! 


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